and ancient magick.
How Eva would cringe to hear Ysai call her that. Technically every human noble had taken lands and titles they had no right to. They were all Usurpers.
He was afraid Ysai would never see Eva as anything but human. Eva would need the Elderi. Reintegrating khimaer into Myre would not be an easy task; she would have to work to earn the loyalty of the khimaer in Myre and the Tribe. Freedom wouldn’t be enough. Humans would have to find some way to return some portion of what had been stolen. He supposed Aketo and Captain Anali could help her in that to a certain degree, but the work would be hers.
Or she would fail as Queen.
His best chance at uniting Eva and the Tribe lay with the Elderi, but he saw a slim chance of making Ysai’s plan work to his advantage.
If he could convince the young Mother of the Tribe he was indeed loyal, he might be able to play her long enough to get Eva on the throne.
He flashed a smile in her direction. “Mother, I notice the air smells of smoke and myrrh, and the charms”—he pointed at a carving of a pouncing leopard hanging from the nearest branch—“are of predators. Do you suspect raiders in the region?”
The Elderi created these charms to ward off any potential enemies, and the children of the Tribe climbed up the trees weekly to hang them.
“Many bands roam these mountains. When they test our boundaries, we deal with it,” she answered stiffly.
“My wolves can patrol the mountain”—he paused, grin brightening just a tick—“with your permission, of course.”
Ysai favored him with a rare smile. “Is this your attempt to roam free and escape south?”
Within a moment of concentration, he’d summoned five wolves. Moon, a white she-wolf with brown eyes, was, like all the apparitions that lived inside him, a double to one of the mountain wolves that had raised him from birth. She nuzzled his knuckles and nipped at his fingertips. “They can roam quite far without me, Mother.”
Finally this, of all his stunts, had the desired effect. Iriki leaned forward in her saddle, the tufts of her orange ears twitching happily, and let out a decidedly canine yip in greeting.
The wolves all danced around Baccha’s knees until he nodded, and then as one they all ran to Iriki’s horse. Enki swung out of his saddle and practically cooed as the wolves nipped at his hands and sniffed him.
This close to Baccha, they would feel nearly corporeal, yet the farther from him they ran, they would become more and more like ghosts.
Ysai simply blinked at the beasts, though her expression did reveal a hint of delight when one of the wolves, a grizzled old boy named Brushfire, licked and then nibbled her boot.
“I will let you know if we have need of more surveillance,” she said.
Baccha called his wolves back into himself, each fading into nothing where they had stood, and he continued walking until they came to a wall of trees bound together with twine and mud and painted white. An arch was carved out of the center, leading to a wide road of packed dirt. Two women and three men stood out front, each armed with dual axes or a set of half-moon short swords called iveki.
The tallest of the group, a bronze-skinned woman with broad shoulders, the forelegs of a lion, and golden eagle wings, approached.
Ysai dismounted and unwound the rope, then none too gently hauled Baccha forward. “Onyi, the Lord Hunter is to be my guest until we meet with the Elderi tonight. Please take him to my tent and leave someone to keep an eye on him.”
“Yes, Mother,” Onyi murmured, taking hold of Baccha’s leash. “Shall I keep him tied up?”
Ysai stroked her chin, gaze moving from the road before her, then to Baccha, and back again. “You can untie him for now, but don’t linger in the camp. His return may cause some stir, but this day is important. I’m sure our Hunter doesn’t want to be a distraction.”
“I serve at your bequest,” Baccha said, bowing slightly, though his jaw was tightly clenched. He knew he deserved to serve the Tribe, and all khimaer, and would continue serving until he found a way to return them to the throne.
Yet it did chafe. Here he was a servant. He missed Myre, where he could still be a source of wonder—a legend. Eva had thought so much of him, until she learned the truth.
He would